Irreversible
by Shrike
Summary: US / FemUK short one shot, post 1945. nuclear bombing


No offence intended to any of the countries involved.

**Irreversible **

There was a monster in her bed.

Locks of tarnished gold spilled on her pillow, his lying form covered by thin sheets and not much else. Discerning his face in pale light of morrow, curved neck, long fingers clasping hers, it was hard to perceive this very hand provided the authorizing signature and sealed so many fates with a flick of a wrist. Always openly smiling, with his carefree and happy-go-lucky demeanor, so different from stiff upbringing he received at her house – that was the face of Alfred the world was familiar with – but Elizabeth knew him better still. When he held her close, it was not in affectionate embrace but in an iron clutch she could not tear away from even if she tried. She never dared, though. He seemed lean and wiry but strength in these lanky arms and long legs was surprising. At times it made her feel safe. At times it reminded her she could never struggle free or run away.

Even asleep he was holding her hand, a childhood habit. It felt both suffocating and flattering.

Alfred stirred in his sleep, inadvertently turning his face towards her. She involuntarily flinched, torn between dread and wanting. Elizabeth could make out fine lining of eyelashes below his eyelids now, calling out to her lips to kiss them open. She would have, too, had she not tossed throughout the night, haunted by scenes that played out every time she closed her eyes, scenes from a tragedy he orchestrated.

The world had no idea of what she already knew, up until now.

All the ghastly pictures of first news reports, of horror frozen in a moment, crying children, melting skin, mute shrieks and miles of rubble where houses used to be.

After all that, he still slept so peacefully.

Francis, Wang, Ivan, herself… they all knew what Alfred was about to do, but no one tried to stop him. All silently agreed it could be a fast solution to a common problem and stood back. Afterwards, they all stood equally aghast, uttering no comments as Alfred grabbed her hand and led her outside war conference room. He didn't speak, then, just avoided her gaze and crawled under covers alongside her, like a child, and slept.

Elizabeth's eyes moved across his face, envying his slumber. It was unfair that she was the one losing sleep over this when it was his finger that had pulled the trigger.

Without a warning, Alfred's eyes opened. He seemed tired and the revelation stirred a pang of unexpected delight in Elizabeth. No more refuge in sleep for him. "I had a terrible dream." he mouthed quietly after awhile.

"It was not a dream." she carefully retorted, noting his haggard expression. There was no way of knowing how he'd react. He closed his eyes again and grimaced, letting the information sink in. "My God, all those people…" he whispered gravely.

Fingers around Elizabeth's hand started shaking and she fought the urge to mechanically bring them to warmth of her chest. No - she was left alone all night, she owed him nothing.

"What have I done!?" he asked, eyes wide. Without glasses they appeared softer and meeker, more genuine. She had never seen him so desperately distressed.

"What you needed to do to end the war." Elizabeth said flatly, using the same excuse that served her so well over centuries. However, gravity of recent events gave the word 'justification' a whole new meaning.

"Do you really believe that?" Alfred tugged pleadingly at her hand.

She bit her lip and looked away. "In theory." she finally whispered.

"All that blood... how will I ever wash myself clean?" his voice was trembling dangerously. Sunlight reflected from a layer of cold sweat on his skin gave him an unnatural, waxy look. There was something so ghostly about his pale features and terrified stare, Elizabeth almost got up and started running, leaving him alone to deal with it. It would have been so easy to slip from his feeble grip now, let him carry the weight of the guilt, be free.

Instead, she ignored her pounding heart and pulled him closer.

She had given him her language, laws, technology and, eventually, her body. Did she ever have a choice? Did she not tailor him after her taste, secretly finding even his rebellious nature appealing? For better or worse, she was defenseless against him - her protégé, her traitor, her lover. Even though she never quite forgave him, she could never bring herself to desert him either.

"No one can undo what's been done." she said, brushing away locks that stuck to his forehead half-motherly, half-intimately, "But time will take the edge off." She kissed him slowly on cheeks, brow, eyes, chin, feeling him relax in her arms.

"That is some consolation." he whispered, letting her brush away salty tears with her lips. It was not proper that he, a paragon of power, cried in front of a woman while lying defeated in her lap. It wasn't proper for a soldier to question means to his goals or prices of his victories. It certainly wasn't proper for a prodigal son to crawl back to the lap of his parent, seeking mercy and compassion or for an abusing lover to ask for love. Still, he couldn't help himself.

"Better than none." she felt him surrender and moved even closer, for the first time being the one taking the initiative. It was her hand that was holding on to his this time around. His weakness liberated her. It felt strangely invigorating to be able to roam freely over his body, soothing his quivering flesh in the process. More than anything, it showed how important her presence was to him.

"Will they ever forgive me?" his head was buried in bundled hair between her shoulder and neck, but she heard his muffled question.

"Will you ever be able to forgive yourself?"

In response he put his arms around her waist and held onto her body as for dear life. Elizabeth rocked them both gently back and forth, pleasantly warmed by his breath. She needed comforting too. "Let me share your pain." she moved away and looked into his moist eyes, "After all, we are in this together. Guilty by association." Her voice betrayed her and her chin trembled, no longer able to keep up a front. It was a heavy burden to carry.

"Never again." Alfred said, kissing her reassuringly. "Never."

THE END


End file.
